


You watch us run

by riversoftime



Category: Doctor Who, Doctor Who (2005)
Genre: F/M, Fluff
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-01-28
Updated: 2018-01-28
Packaged: 2019-03-10 15:46:09
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,661
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13504680
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/riversoftime/pseuds/riversoftime
Summary: Ficlets which captures specific moments of the Doctor and his wife life, through time and space. (Mostly 10th, 11th and 12th Doctors)





	You watch us run

**Author's Note:**

> I'm still french, and I really want to thank Kurisutori618 for her great help. It's easier to translate knowing that she will correct my mistakes.  
> Oh, and I'm not stealing drawings of someone else, they are mine.

 

Clara was happy. For the first time since Trenzalore the Doctor seemed to have recovered back to his usual self with the prep in his step. Though the visit previously to his tomb probably still deeply affected him, that's why he had spent weeks sometimes following her with a dismal look instead of his usual antics.

She had persuaded him to take them to Paris, because she had dreamed since childhood of visiting the French capital.

The young woman had dressed accordingly – No one visits the capital of fashion without wanting to look like a Frenchwoman - and she even had convinced the Doctor to take off, for once, his favourite dark purple suit. His tuxedo was certainly a little overdressed to walk along the Seine, but Clara had to admit she found fashion quite attractive. And it didn't matter if she hadn't managed to make him give up his signature bow tie. But the Doctor was handsome, it was true. He seduced without effort through his youthful face, his clear blue eyes, his sharp features and his polite manners. Even his chin, which might have seemed disproportionate on another man, only managed to give him more charm. And Clara knew she was beautiful too, especially in her skin-tight black dress. Paris seemed to sparkle on the both of them.

On one of those late summer afternoons the river was flowing through the city and twinkling by a golden light. Clara had never seen a light quite like it. She now understood why painters were passionate about this city and why it was called the city of love all over the world. How couldn't anyone fall in love surrounded by so much beauty?

Lovers and music seemed to be the beating heart of Paris. The Doctor and she often bumped into impromptu dances. One musician or two was enough and people were pairing, dancing for ephemeral minutes before going back to their lives. There was a kind of magic in the air.

Clara had been asked many times and had swirled in the arms of strangers. She had tried several times to invite the Doctor, but he had always refused with a smile. He said he never danced, only at weddings. She had been disappointed with that answer. She had secretly hoped this trip turned into a date. After all, when he was looking at her sometimes, she felt like there was a chance they could become more than friends.

Well, obviously, Paris didn't inspire romantic notions to the Doctor. Did this man only know what romanticism was? He sometimes seemed to be like a kid who would had grown up too fast. He enjoyed nothing more than mystery and he was in his element when danger arose, but sometimes she could hardly believe he was married. He never talked about it. She assumed that marriage simply involved – another significant Time Lord - to run around the galaxy like a madman with someone to hold his hand. He had called his wife an "old friend" after all. No, he definitely didn't know how to love like humans, and romanticism had to be strange for him.

She accepted the way things were and grabbed his arm, pulling it after her to move faster together. She desperately wanted to see the Pont des Arts, since she had read it was a _must_ for lovers visiting Paris. He followed her without complaint or nearly - He was the Doctor after all - so she was surprised when he froze, forcing her to do the same. He reached for her arm and tightened his grip, almost enough to hurt her.

"Clara, go back to the TARDIS, please."

The Doctor's voice was hoarse, and Clara looked up at him to understand what was happening. He didn't look at her. His jaw was clenched, his face pale, and he stared ahead at someone in front of him. She followed his gaze direction, and she saw her. A woman dressed in a delightful red haute couture dress was sitting on the steps leading to the wharves. She seemed lost in contemplation of the Seine with her chin resting on the palm of her hand. It was hard to tell, given her face was hidden by big sunglasses. But Clara didn't need to see her face to recognize her because her hair revealed who she was. She had seen only once this wild mane of blonde hair with crazy curls. The space hair. River Song.

The dark-haired young woman jumped, her eyes widened, and she suddenly looked up at the Doctor. He still didn't look at her because his face was painfully focused towards his wife.

"But .. But she's dead! At Trenzalore, you told me ..."

The Doctor swallowed and closed his eyes. His voice was low, as if words themselves were hurting him.

"We meet in the wrong order She's … dead" The last word was just a whisper "The first time I met her. I didn't see her for so long, that I thought our time had passed. That's why I told you that at Trenzalore. I should have known my River better." He smiled when he said her name, eyes closed, like he had received a granted pray from heaven. This smile hurt Clara because she had never seen him smiling like this before. He opened his eyes and finally lowered his face to her.

"Please, Clara, give me time alone with my wife." There was pain and a pleading look in the Time Lord eyes that Clara felt her throat tighten. She nodded and dropped her arm, quickly turning around so he couldn't see her dismay. But would he have noticed it? He only had eyes towards that woman, the woman who was only a ghost and to whom - she understood it now - he totally belonged to.

No, this man would never be hers, but it wasn't because he didn't know how to love. She had been wrong. The Doctor's hearts were entirely captive to this woman with the space hair. Whether she is dead or alive didn't change that fact and would probably never change. That's why he didn't talk about it: that story belonged only to them.

Clara looked one last time over her shoulder. He went to approach River and it seemed he had asked her to dance. She choked back a sob and ran away.

 

The Doctor silently thanked his impossible girl for understanding his request. He promised himself to take her to a fabulous place next time in order to be forgiven. Ataraxis 5, maybe? He had heard that there was the biggest market in the whole universe.

The man with the bow tie shook his head and forgot Clara when his eyes returned to his wife. He breathed deeply and with effort removed all the pain from his hearts and face. She was dead. He had said goodbye to her. But for now, she was breathing, and she was only a few steps away from him ... And he was going to hold her in his arms. He would have time later to grieve for her again.

A group of three boys began to play music nearby and around him couples were already forming.

 

The Doctor trotted to River driven by a joy that left him quite stunned. He stopped just a few steps from her and was about to launch his usual tirade with his most flirty voice ‘ _Hi Honey, I'm home!_ ’ when she interrupted him.

"No, I neither want a coffee with you nor give you my number. I'm warning you because I'm nice, but you'll regret it if you insist."

River dispensed this sentence without moving. She didn't even look at him. She probably has had many unwanted suitors that day. But after all it was not surprising, his wife had always had an alluring effect on the men.

Bowtie felt butterflies in his stomach when he heard her warm, sexy voice and he struggled to not chuckle. Where did she hide her weapon this time?

"How about I take you for a ride in my TARDIS?" The words sounded a bit more naughty than he thought them. She turned her head sharply towards him with those curls - that he loved - flying around her face, and her smile made him tremble with want.

"Sweetie!"

He couldn't help but swivel himself with a grin closer towards her to stop and offer out a hand to her.

"I can tell by this smile that I would be safe if I ask you to dance, isn't it?"

She accepted his hand and he pulled her in close. And then she was in his arms, all curves and laughter, and he dragged her in a swirling half-turn, just for the sake of feeling her putting her hands on his shoulders. He took off her glasses with one hand, making them disappear into one of his pockets bigger in the inside. He just wanted to see her green sparkling eyes that had missed him so much.

Then he laid his lips upon her hers, like a thirsty man finding an oasis in the desert. That was the honest truth. He had thought that he would never see her again.

She wrapped her arms around his neck and opened her lips under his kiss. Time vanished, as always with her. It was the taste of River, the warmth of River, the ardor of River, it was her scent invading his senses, it was the suppleness of her body pressed against his own... It was the sweetness of her tongue under his. The Doctor could have happily spent the rest of his life kissing his wife.

But they had to part when the air ran out despite their respiratory derivation. She leaned her forehead against his with a smirk. He grabbed one of her hands in his, letting the second slide down her back, and slowly - nearly subconsciously - began to dance with her.

Their bodies fit each other perfectly as they always had. He generally wasn't coordinated in that body. He was too gangly, too clumsy and his hands tended to fly in any directions. But everything changed when he had River to his form. His hands became still because they instinctively placed themselves to the right place. He took her in dates to see the most beautiful planets, they had held each other under a night sky where more stars shone than at any other moment in Time. They had danced together throughout all the Universe. Each time they had done that he felt like the rest of the world was ceasing to exist. He sometimes thought he was born for those moments, to be in this woman's arms. His perfect wife. His River Song.

They were silent for long, just enjoying being together and to feel the quadruple staccato of hearts pounding in their breasts. Or was it a few seconds? He wouldn't be able to place it. Then the Doctor put his lips to her temple, still twirling her. He nuzzled her incredible curls, breathing their inimitable smell. It was the smell of dust and her jasmine fragrance, and it was also the smell of Time and … gunpowder?

 

"River, what are you doing here?"

She looked up at him with a smirk (he thought this smile belonged to him because it had too much power, that smile. It annoyed him, worried him, delighted him, made him feel weirdly unstable on his legs and made him want to senseless kiss her all at once.)

"I was waiting for my husband, of course!"

"Rivah!" He tried to look serious, but his attempt was spoiled by an unintentional chuckle, "You smell like gunpowder, what have you done, my bad, bad, girl?"

She shrugged and put the tips of her fingers on his bowtie, straightening it like she did it thousand times. Then she buried her nose in the small of his neck. He put his lips in her curls, and felt her smile on his skin.

"It's _possible_ that I went to the Louvre. They had a copy of 'Sunflowers' that I didn't have yet, and it was the perfect time to get it back."

The Doctor smiled but he felt a little melancholy. He knew that his wife had decided to get back all the paintings painted by the master and representing the famous sunflowers. She felt that they belonged to her mother. And she was right in a sense. He also knew that she had achieved her goal long before Manhattan, and he had been there the day she had offered them all to Amy. What a day that was! He wondered how this version of his wife was young. Unable to stop himself, he held her more firmly.

"By the way, tell me, when are we for you, Doctor?" he swallowed and smelt the scent of her curls to calm down.

"Manhattan." he said, hiding the pain in his voice because this one was the oldest River he had ever seen thus far. He had long believed that he had erased Darillium by avoiding it. This meeting made him hope that - perhaps - other meetings were planned with an older River after all. The voice of his wife took him out of his thoughts.

"Not done yet, you're older than me this time. The last time we met it was on Kapteyn for me."

"The first or second time?" She looked up at him, her curls brushing his chin. Her smile was dazzling.

"Are we going back here? How exciting!" He burst out laughing.

"You're impossible! You're just saying that because the last time you enjoyed shooting these Sontarans! And I lost one of my favorite bow ties in that story!" River's grin became more naughty.

"Don't tell me you're sorry," she purred, running her fingers through his floppy hair and pulling them away from his forehead.

The Doctor blushed to his ears and preferred to change the subject, clearing his throat. "You .. you didn't tell me what you did with your painting!?"

River climbed on the tip of her stilettos without losing the rhythm of their dance and whispered in his ear. "If you're _very_ good, I'll let you try to find it."

The Doctor lost the tempo and stumbled this time. Uncomfortably caught between desire and embarrassment he glared at River and exclaimed, "Rivahh!"

She gave him an unrepentant grin and captured his lips again. He was too happy to resist and wrapped his arms so tight around her that her supple body was molded into his. At that moment he didn't care if they were looked at. He didn't even notice the photographer who stole their moment, certain of his future photo's beauty. Nothing existed but his wife.

When they parted, his cheeks were still red but not really with embarrassment. They were now motionless despite the music, and the Doctor buried his hands in River's curls to raise her face to him. Then he stroked her lips with his thumb. She smiled at him, and he knew he had never seen anything this beautiful across the universe than the golden glow of her indomitable hair, the kissable curve of her lips, the loveliness of her features and the wild life in her eyes. He wanted to spend the rest of his lives by her side. That's why he engraved every tiny detail in his mind, to carry it away with him forever. Even when …

The Doctor felt his throat tighten.

"River. My River. We run in opposite directions but please.." His eyes were bright with tears. "Please don't ever forget: We're still running side by side, until the very last…"

He was unable to continue and his voice broke. River frowned and she entwined her arms around his waist in order to hold him tightly. Then she kissed his thumb, pressing for a long time her lips over it.

"I didn't realize it was so late for you, my love. But I'm here today. I'm not going anywhere, Doctor." The understanding and sadness twinkled for a moment in the beautiful green eyes of the archaeologist. They both knew what their destiny was. They could hang on to each other with all their strength, though the universe would eventually snatch them away from the arms of each other. It was inexorable.

 

But not today.

 

Then River smiled, brushing her cheek against the palm of her husband's hand, and moved her pelvis closer to his. Carried by the strength of his wife the Doctor smiled again and was able to finish. "You watch us run. You and me, time and space."

She just nodded, with her smile like a banner between them and the darkness that encircled their impossible timelines.

"From the first day to the last, my love. We'll write our story through time and space until our memories fill the entire universe. We'll be the source of so many and many myths that I'll never be far from you, and if you forget one day - " _When you'll forget, in my future and your past_. He heard in her mind words she didn't tell because their minds of Time Lord didn't really need words to communicate.

"I'll engrave our love in stone to remind you. It's a promise, Sweetie, nothing will separate us. Not really."

The Doctor blinked to keep back tears. He remembered the first words ever written - with those letters 50 feet high - that the TARDIS had translated so long ago. He also remembered the burst of joy he had felt as he was reading these words which gave hope in a promise of happiness to come. It seemed to him it was in another life. A happy life. _Hello Sweetie._

His amazing wife would keep her promise in a spectacular way, as usual. He nuzzled his nose to hers and briefly captured her lips then he smiled again. She was there, right? Warm and vibrant in his arms. He had promised himself to enjoy some quality time with her, sadness had no place between them. He had just said it. Right now, they were still running.

"Would you come to the TARDIS with me?" His voice was hoarse. It didn't matter Clara at this point. He would take her home and even let River fly the TARDIS for it to be quick. He was desperate to scrounge a little more time with her.

"That's not what you proposed earlier? A girl would be disappointed by her husband, if he didn't keep his promises!" she grinned at him, having chased their common demons in the back of her mind. There was all the love of the world in that grin ... And much more licentious things in the depths of her green eyes. The man with the bow tie suddenly felt the urge to loosen his collar.

 

"And ..." He wavered, conscious of being, perhaps, too greedy. "Would you travel with me? There is this planet where hats are forbidden, you would love it! Or this other, really boring, full of sand and artifacts (for her, he would even be ready to _dig_ to dig them up. If it wasn't a proof of love!) Oh, and I always wanted to visit this place where they worship rain Gods, and I told you about this nebula where... "

He knew he was talking too much for now and too fast, but he was afraid to stop and hear her refusal. That's why he multiplied the proposals, voluble, seeking what could tempt her.

"Hush" She interrupted this torrent of words with two fingers on his lips. He swallowed. "Of course, I'll travel with you, Sweetie."

The tenderness inscribed on her lips turned into mischief. "A little birdie tells me that you'll get into trouble of the worst kind on these planets if I'm not here to watch over your nice ass, my beautiful idiot."

He sniffed, this answer attempting to hide the best he could the wild joy now drumming his hearts. She was going to stay with him. He vowed to keep her, as long as possible, even months if he could. And he would use all means to do that, even the least decent. His mind whispered like a traitor that it was far from being the most unpleasant way. That thought reddened his face.

"However," she said, "I'm going to fly the TARDIS. I wouldn't want Stormcage send all the bounty hunters of the universe to my heels because you've been wrong in time coordinates to get me back to my cell. "

He tapped her nose "We'll talk about this later, Doctor Song."

She grinned "There's nothing to talk about."

Then she leaned against him, pulling her hands from his waist and pulling them back to his chest, in the exact place where his two hearts were pounding. "But first, Sweetie ... I had the idea that we could enjoy our little reunion. Let's go somewhere _more private_. How far is The Old Girl?" She purred.

The Doctor giggled, perfectly blushing red again, then frantically shook his head "Yes... I mean no. No! no, I mean yes !" He stuttered with a goofy smile on his lips.

She burst out laughing and he grabbed her hand even if his face still felt hot.

"Oh come on, Dear!" He muttered.

He had only one idea, now, join the TARDIS and - well, he probably had more than one idea, in fact. But for that it would be necessary to wait until they have landed Clara. There would be nothing more embarrassing than being caught by his companion while ... Well, while River and him had a _private_ moment.

Because he was in his thoughts he dragged River behind him, on the double. She intertwined her fingers to his and easily adapted to his pace, as always, her high heels dancing on the cobblestones of Paris.

They arrived soon at the TARDIS, and the blue doors closed on the couple. The universe was waiting for them to watch them run again.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 


End file.
